


Not Alone

by starwhims



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen, characters with skin conditions, psoriasis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-04-21 09:00:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22059262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwhims/pseuds/starwhims
Summary: Sanji has been dealing with a skin condition that he's terrified to let anyone know about.Warnings for semi detailed descriptions of psoriasis.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	Not Alone

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this partly to deal with my psoriasis that has been really bad lately, and partly to educate anyone who might not know about the condition. if you would like to know more about it visit the website of the national psoriasis organization: www.psoriasis.org
> 
> self beta'd

Sanji had been dealing with it since he was a teenager. The burning itch and parts of himself flaking off into the sea. It was manageable...until it wasn’t. He often felt like it would eventually eat him alive, leaving nothing but a husk of dead skin, and even then it would still itch.. 

It was the worst on his scalp, leaving dainty snow on his black suits whenever he itched it. It made his groin itch in the morning, so vigorously sometimes Zoro would tell him to stop jacking off from the bunk below. The worst part by far though was the arthritis that came with it. Several of his fingers were swollen and a lot of times would lock up while doing any kind of precise work, mostly in the kitchen. Pitted his nails and made them brittle like tree bark, which wasn’t ideal for cooking at all. Even worse for when he was doing the dishes after they ate. 

Sanji tried to hide it from his crew mates, but it was exacerbated by stress and smoking. Both of which he had plenty of. It was embarrassing, and gross, and uncomfortable. It dominated his life from the moment he woke up to when sleep took him. Sometimes he thought about telling Chopper, thinking maybe he would know how to help. He even had tried a few times, but getting the words out was more uncomfortable than the itch at times. 

They had arrived at a winter island earlier today which Sanji generally dreaded because the dry air made the itching worse, and the cold climate made the inflamed joints in his fingers sore. Standing at the counter in the kitchen, he tried to cut some meat into chunks for a stew, but the heater wasn’t working on the Sunny right now, and it hurt to even hold the meat in place. Angirly, he set down the knife, and collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs. There was a patch of crimson and scales forming on his forearm. Looking down at it, Sanji frowned before pulling his sweater sleeve down further to cover it. 

Sanji let out a large sigh. Absently, his hand found his scalp and he began to pick at it. He knew it was gross to do it at the kitchen table, but it was driving him crazy. The kitchen was supposed to be his sanctuary, but it had become more of a source of anxiety since his condition had started getting bad again. He felt he couldn’t even exist in the kitchen without the fear that he was doing something unsanitary. 

There was a rustling at the doorway, before someone opened it a crack. Frantically, Sanji dusted the flakes off the table, and onto the floorboards before the person could enter. There was a soft tinging as the swords on Zoro’s waist tapped the metal doorframe. Great, Sanji thought. 

“What do you want?”

“Luffy wants to know when dinner’ll be ready?” Zoro asked, walking further into the room and leaning on the table. 

“Soon.” Standing up with renewed motivation to finish dinner, Sanji went back to the counter and continued trying to cut the meat, but he had to pause every few seconds to ride the surge of pain in his joints. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine!” Sanji barked. Trying to continue like nothing was wrong, Sanji continued to cut the meat, working through the pain until eventually it became too much. Hastily, he tossed the knife onto the counter and let his head hang, defeated. Zoro, who had been watching him the entire time, stood up from his place leaning on the table. 

This was so embarrassing, he thought. He didn’t want anyone to know, least of all the swordsman. He raised his fist to cough into, and the sleeve of his sweater fell down past his forearm. Quickly, Sanji tried to lower it, and let the sleeve fall back down, but Zoro was fast, grabbing his forearm swiftly. 

Desperately, he tried to jerk away, but Zoro had more upper body strength than him, leaving the cook at a disadvantage. Avoiding eye contact, Sanji let a curtain of blonde hair fall in between them, hoping it would shield him from Zoro’s usual piercing gaze. Despite the cold temperature, he felt hot all over. His scalp was pricking with the familiar start of an itch, and he cursed Zoro mentally for being so naturally perceptive. 

Gently, Zoro pulled down the knit sleeve of Sanji’s sweater, revealing the patch of angry red, and silvery scaly skin. His calloused fingers ghosted over the area, taking care not to irritate it. 

“What is it?” he said in an almost whispered. 

“I don’t know,” Sanji managed to reply. Keeping a firm grip with one hand on the cook’s arm so he couldn’t move away, Zoro’s other hand flew up to Sanji’s inflamed fingers, tracing them gingerly. 

“How long?” 

Sanji sighed as Zoro let go of him. “I dunno. Since I was sixteen or seventeen. It comes and goes. It’s been really bad lately.” It felt like there was a rock in his throat, blocking his windpipe and making it hard to speak or even breathe. 

“Does it hurt?” 

“What’s with the twenty questions?! Just let me deal with it,” Sanji snapped. Zoro frowned, but didn’t retreat or back down. 

“I can tell it hurts. You haven’t been doing things as smoothly lately. You flex your fingers a lot. You don’t come into the men’s shower anymore, or change in front of us. You always wear long sleeves, and pants even on summer islands.” 

Sanji grimaced. Was it that obvious? Did everyone know, and was just being polite by not mentioning it. His hand fluttered to his head instinctually, not being able to ignore the persistent burning on his scalp. Taking a step back, Sanji collapsed into the chair again. Burying his face in his hands, his fingers tangling in his hair. 

“It’s so fucking annoying. I feel gross all the time. Uncomfortable, and embarrassed. It never ends,” he choked out. 

Zoro sat in the chair across from him. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?” 

“I don’t want anyone to look at me, and see how broken I am.” Raising his head from his hands, Sanji looked up at the swordsman. Zoro huffed, and leaned backwards while crossing his arms. 

“That’s a stupid reason.” 

Sanji rolled his eyes, “Wow, thanks.” 

“You’re suffering, and you don’t want help because, what? It looks gross? Well newsflash, so do my scars? Doesn’t keep me from getting Chopper to sew ‘em up.” 

“Shut up!” he shouted. Zoro didn’t say anything while Sanji angrily kicked the chair back, and threw the meat back in the fridge. “Tell Luffy dinner’s gonna be awhile. I need a fucking smoke.” 

The cook stalked out of the kitchen and made his way to the library, hoping Nami wouldn’t be there so he could have some genuine peace and quiet. She didn’t like it when he smoked in there, but right now it couldn’t be avoided. Shoving his weight against the door, Sanji opened the door without using the handle. Thankfully the library was empty. He plopped down in one of the big leather arm chairs that faced the clear view of the sea. 

It was dark today, snow building up on the windowsill, and frosting over the glass. Sanji looked at the snow flakes which reminded him of his unpleasant interaction with Zoro. Slumping further into the chair, his fingernails found his scalp again. There was some build up behind his ear, and he absent mindedly picked at it until it was raw. When excess skin has been picked off, the itching began. It felt good sometimes to itch it like that. It felt very...cathartic in a way. And that wasn’t even taking into account the actual sensation, which he could only compare to when you wear socks all day, and then finally take them off to scratch the area where the sock’s elastic was. 

Sanji let his hand flop down, noticing that there was a bit of blood underneath his speckled nails. The condition itself was stressful, but the not knowing what was causing it could sometimes be worse. He was basically self mutilating, and for what?

He pinched the bridge of noise, trying to collect the swirling dread in his chest. Maybe Zoro was right. Tactless and blut beyond reason...but right. Although hiding it from everyone had been such a large source of anxiety for Sanji for so long, he genuinely had no idea what it would be like to tell them. Especially Chopper. God, he would be so mad. Chirping at him angrily for at least half an hour about how he’s a doctor, and this is what he does, and it’s no good if he doesn’t tell anyone about stuff like this. 

There was the sound of dainty footsteps behind him, and Sanji wearily craned his neck past the wing of the armchair to see who it was. A mess of orange hair sauntered towards him, and perched itself on the large arm of the chair. 

“Did you fight with Zoro again?” Nami asked, her large brown eyes seeming as if they were peering into him. 

He sighed. “You could say that.”

“Well stop it. I know you both aren’t the best of friends, but the least you can do is keep-“ 

“I need to tell you something,” Sanji blurted out, cutting her off. Raising her eyebrows, Nami smiled sweetly. 

“Shoot.” 

“It’s related to what Zoro, and I were fighting about,” he started. “But I feel like...I don’t know...I feel like you’re the only one who won’t judge me.” The words tumbled out one right after the other, incomplete and disjointed, but Nami seemed to understand nonetheless. She nodded, looking concerned now. Slowly he pulled down the baggy sleeve of his sweater, revealing the large swath of skin encased in silver. 

Nami cocked her head, looking closely at it. “That’s all?” 

Sanji nodded slowly. It hadn’t been the reaction he had anticipated, but it wasn’t exactly the best one either. “I don’t know what it is. It’s all over me, and it causes my fingers to ache horribly.” 

“May I?” Nami asked. Sanji nodded again, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for her to eventually realize how gross it was, and reject him all together. She examined it for a few moments and then pulled back before speaking “I don’t know what it is. You should tell Chopper.” 

Avoiding her gaze, Sanji looked away idly. Two people on the ship now knew, and neither of them had reacted as terribly as he had feared. It didn’t really quiet the parts of his mind that viewed himself as unlovable due to it, but maybe telling Chopper wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Nami patted his leg. 

“C’mon, I’ll go with you.” He looked up at her. She was smiling. She wasn’t grossed out, or angry, or scared. Nami wasn’t any of those things he had been cowering in fear from for so long. She just wanted to help, like Zoro had. Taking her hand, Sanji stood up slowly. 

“Thank you.”

She winked and stuck out her tongue. “You’re welcome!” 

They walked together, hand in hand, down the hallway to the infirmary where Chopper spent most of his time. Nami knocked on the door gingerly, and Chopper’s spritely voice rung clearly, even through the door, telling them to come in. 

When they got inside, Luffy was sitting on the exam table while Chopper held a stethoscope up to his chest. 

“I’m fine!” Luffy exclaimed. 

“You fell directly from the mast into the freezing water!” 

“I keep telling you Chopper, being rubber makes me invincible!” 

“No! It doesn’t!” 

“Sanji! Nami! Tell Chopper I’m fine!” Luffy hopped off the counter and posed flexing his “invincible muscles.” Nami laughed.

“Luffy’s right Chopper. I’ve seen him take ten bullets no problem. I think falling off the mast is the least of our captain’s problems,” Sanji repiled.  
Chopper sighed and shooed Luffy out. “Okay, whatever, you’re fine. You can go.”

Luffy grinned, a bit cocky, before strolling out of the room. “Byeeeeeeee.” 

Ushering Sanji, over to the table, Nami explained why they were there: “Sanji needs to tell you about something.” 

Chopper turned to him, and suddenly Sanji felt sick. Without thinking, he reached his hand up to his head and began picking. He hated to admit it but sometimes picking calmed him down in high anxiety moments. “Well...uh...I have this skin thing.” 

“What kind of skin thing?” 

Taking a deep breath, Sanji tried to center himself. This stuff was a part of him, and the crew loved each other despite their flaws. Maybe if he could love everyone else unconditionally, they could do the same for him. Flakes and all. He took his sweater off completely, and showed Chopper the patches that covered his arms and trunk. Then he showed him his hands, and even had him look on his scalp.

Chopper hopped down off the stool, and took a book from the bottom shelf of the bookcase that was kept in the infirmary. While he flipped through it, Nami elbowed him, and mouthed “Was that so bad?” Smiling for the first time in what felt like weeks, Sanji shook his head. 

Putting down the book, Chopper turned to them. “It’s Psoriasis.” 

“What?” Sanji asked. It really couldn’t be that easy could it? This unnamed thing he had been fighting for so long, and it could have been explained just like that. Relief washed over him just from the simplicity of knowing it had a name.

“It’s an autoimmune disease. Your immune system thinks your skin is under attack, and so it creates more skin cells than a normal immune system would. Those build up on your skin and create the red, itchy, and scaly patches. It has been linked with arthritis which is why your fingers hurt,” Chopper explained in his serious doctor voice. 

“Is there a way to get rid of it?” Sanji asked. 

“No. It’s generally thought to be incurable.” Sanji’s shoulders slumped. So there wasn’t a way to make it go away. It was something he had to live with for life. “But it’s not life threatening, or contagious, and I can prescribe medicine to make it mangable!” 

Chopper hopped up on the exam table, sitting next to Sanji. “I’m sorry that you’ve been dealing with this alone for so long. That couldn’t have been easy.” 

Looking down at the cute reindeer doctor, Sanji felt better. There was nothing horrible or grotesque about him, he was just sick. And he didn’t have to go through it alone anymore, because he had Chopper, Nami, Zoro, and the rest of the crew. 

“It wasn’t. But I think I’m okay now.” 

“Awh...I love you guys!” Nami exclaimed, pulling them in for a group hug.

Nestling his face in Nami’s shoulder, Sanji let the tension that had built up in his body schluff into oblivion. “I love you all too."

**Author's Note:**

> i have moderate psoriasis, and sanji in this fic has severe. if i fucked up anything about the arthritis part of it i'm sorry, but i tried to be as accurate as possible. i also know that it would probably be harder to hide from people in close quarters like the sunny but i wanted to portray some of that feeling of isolation a lot of psoriasis suffers feel. 
> 
> thank you for reading. i hope this helped anyone who does have psoriasis, and for those who don't helped you understand a little more about people who do.


End file.
